The 2023 Senior Perspectives is the 18th in a series of annual collections. Senior captains and representatives of teams at Harvard have been invited to contribute viewpoints based on personal experience from both their senior seasons and full varsity careers at Harvard.
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Hometown: Belmont, Mass.
Sport: Skiing
Concentration: Statistics
House: Cabot
Most student-athletes target their senior season as the peak of their athletic journey. Unfortunately, in my senior year I had some of the poorest results of my college career. Even with my share of medical misfortune, I couldn't explain the drop-off in my results. However, the process of failing to reach any of my goals this year has made me more grateful for my athletic journey than many of my previous victories.
Being a student-athlete at Harvard has been an extraordinary experience, but it has not been without its unique challenges. I've gotten to pursue the sport I love at an international level while immersing myself in the opportunities, networks, and friendships of a world-class institution. However, skiing at Harvard has been difficult for some of the same reasons. FOMO, or the 'Fear Of Missing Out,' describes much of this. Surrounded by brilliant, motivated peers on campus, I would wonder about, and even get jealous of, the many other things my friends were doing. I'm not proud of this, but even while skiing at the highest level of my life I'd wonder what college would be like without the sacrifices I made for skiing. What if I could take more of the hard classes I wanted, without worrying about the 20-plus hours of practice every week? What if I could take a leadership role in the Harvard Outing Club or First-Year Outdoor Program, and spend more time with those communities? What if I could become more involved in House life, or go out with my friends more often?
Throughout my first three years at Harvard, I answered these musings with a clear vision of my motivations in skiing. I had long been irritated by the narrative in the skiing community that high-level cross-country skiing was not possible at Harvard. This possessed me with a mission to prove people otherwise, and it fed a lion's share of my competitive fire. As our Assistant Coach
Hannah Halvorsen put it, I was in "War Mode." Skiing and my team mattered to me in a multitude of other ways, and my schoolwork still came first, but having a chip on my shoulder enabled me to train and race at surprising levels. At the peak of my skiing career in March 2020, I recorded the highest-ever NCAA Championships result for a Harvard Nordic skier with a 13
th-place finish in Bozeman, Montana. (This year, my friend and teammate
Rémi Drolet blew that out of the water with a national championship!)
Going into my senior year, I knew that I would not pursue skiing professionally after graduation. With academic, personal, and professional questions looming, the same sacrifices that I had made the first three years in college began to challenge me. My priorities subconsciously shifted, and subconsciously my "War Mode" began to fracture. Add in a dislocated shoulder in fall training, plus some unexpected medical issues at the start of the winter, and my racing season began to unravel. Following a particularly bad race, I sat with our coach at the dining room table and just let myself cry. I began to realize that I would likely miss NCAA qualifying and all my other result goals for the year. In my final season as a competitive skier, I couldn't explain why that was happening.
Confronting these realizations, I became more aware of the subconscious mental shift that had occurred. I was grateful for all the successes I'd had in skiing and wasn't as motivated to "prove myself" as I was before. This came with its share of silver linings; less stressed by the outcome of a ski race I found myself appreciating more aspects of my team and sport. Whether it was playing cards in the evening with my teammates, cherishing weekends spent in the New England winter wonderland, or reveling in my friends' cheering at our home race, I found new ways to enjoy our season. The underclassmen pronounced me "Team Dad," and when my skis came off three times during my final race I just laughed and continued to chase my competitors.
Reflecting after the end of the season, I began to understand the impact that my change in mindset had on my results. I hadn't reached my full racing potential during the winter, and I was at peace with that. Having spent a year with a shifted ranking of my priorities, I am able to answer some of the "What if…?" musings that my younger self had. I had redirected some of my energies towards research, deepening special Harvard friendships, and trying new things like the Cabot House Musical.
At the same time, my experience validated the sacrifices and decisions I made earlier in college. It's not possible (at least for me!) to do everything at the most intense level, and part of life is choosing what things to commit to. Committing myself to skiing wasn't without cost, but the thrill of having a goal to work towards and a team to rally behind is very, very special. There are countless reasons I am grateful for my college athletic journey, but I will remember these lessons about commitment, sacrifice, and fighting FOMO for a long time.
Thank you to my parents, sisters, coaches, teammates, friends, for everything. Go Crimson!!
